


Take My Hand and Drag Me Head First

by Paradise_of_Mary_Jane



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe-No Voldemort, Fake Dating, M/M, logic defying obliviousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 06:25:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7607287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paradise_of_Mary_Jane/pseuds/Paradise_of_Mary_Jane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James proposes and Sirius is very confused. In more ways than one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take My Hand and Drag Me Head First

**Author's Note:**

> Well this is the longest work I've ever made. This is it, two months in. Thank you so much to my amazing beta **[hereyougo-thecontentsofmybrain](http://hereyougo-thecontentsofmybrain.tumblr.com/)** who put up with my poor understanding of commas. You are awesome!
> 
> And yes, the title is from a Taylor Swift Song.

It starts with a ring.

 If this were an ordinary, everyday sort of engagement, there would be nothing remarkable about it; most engagements start with a ring, after all. No, when Sirius says it starts with a ring, he means that _all of it_ starts with the ring. The engagement, least of all.

 Whenever anyone asks, Sirius will say that it’s James’ fault, and it is. Not that he minds, granted, but it really is James’ fault. The entire confusing, ridiculous, and downright strange ordeal is entirely James’ fault. Alright, Sirius may have played a small part in it, but let it be clear that the majority of the blame lies on James Potter and his inability to do anything that isn’t either a grand gesture or acceptable in any proper sort of society.

 It starts when Sirius walks into the Potter living room with James bent under the living room couch, reaching for something. Sirius heads over curiously and stops at James’ head.

 “What are you doing, Prongs?”

 It happens in a split second. One moment, James is bent under the couch reaching for something; the next James is kneeling in front of him, holding a ring box containing a familiar looking ring.

 “What on Earth—”

 “Have either of you seen my wand, I’ve been looking for it everywhere and—Oh my dear.”

 James’ face is very pale, Sirius notes distantly. He’s staring at Sirius, mouth opening and closing soundlessly. Sirius is pretty sure he’s not that far behind.

 “That’s not—This isn’t—” Merlin’s freakin’ balls, is Sirius seriously babbling? He can’t remember the last time he babbled. This is not good. There must be some sort of reasonable explanation as to why James is kneeling in front of him and holding a ring box. An explanation that isn’t the obvious one because this is most definitely not what it looks like. An explanation that he can safely say to Mrs. Potter without any sort of guilt.

 “This isn’t what it looks like,” he says and his voice most definitely does not squeak. Of course not. He sounds as cool and nonchalant as ever. James doesn’t say anything, just stares at his mother, mouth opening and closing soundlessly, as if silently imploring himself to say something, and failing miserably.

 Mrs. Potter eyes them. There’s a knowing look in her eyes, and oh no she is definitely getting the wrong impression because James is down on one knee holding a ring box and people tend to make assumptions about that.

 “Of course it isn’t, dear,” she says in a totally unconvincing, indulgent tone. A five-year- old would not have been convinced by her tone. She beams at them and spreads her hands in that welcoming way of hers, as if in congratulations. It’s almost enough for Sirius to hate her. Almost. “I really didn’t mean to interrupt. Just looking for my wand and all. Pretend I’m not here.”

 “It’s on the counter,” James mutters. Now he manages full sentences, the bastard, though apparently not enough to support Sirius. Mrs. Potter’s smile widens. She takes her wand and says in a bright, cheerful voice,

 “I must say, it’s about time. You’re both old enough and Fleamont and I are not getting any younger. I’m glad you’re settling down.” She looks at James and there’s that knowing look again. If Sirius didn’t love her so much he might have been tempted to hex her. “So when is the wedding?”

 Sirius stares at her but there’s no sign of amusement on her face. She seems genuinely curious as to when he and James will get married. Bloody hell. He doesn’t have to look at James to know that he’s opening and closing his mouth again like an overgrown fish. Mrs. Potter seems to misinterpret their expressions because she hurriedly says,

 “Of course it’s too early to plan for a wedding. You’ve only just proposed, after all. Never mind me.” And there’s that smile again, as if she’s incredibly proud of the two of them for doing this. Which is completely ridiculous, because there isn’t even an actual _this._

 “Yes,” James says in a rush, most likely eager to agree to something. Sirius clears his throat and James’ brain finally seems to catch up with him. His eyes widen in horror. “I mean, what?”

 Mrs. Potter is chuckling and giving them a look that is just so fond. Sirius opens his mouth to disagree and tell her that no, she is definitely getting the wrong impression and this is certainly not what it looks like. But Mrs. Potter beats him to it. Again. It’s almost as if he’s lost the use of his mouth.

 “Well then, I’ll leave you two to it then. Carry on. I am very sorry for interrupting.”

 And she’s gone. Just like that. James turns to him, face the colour of milk.

 “What,” Sirius says. James is still kneeling and holding the ring box. Sirius can only stare at him. He looks bloody ridiculous. “Just happened.”

 “You should probably get up from there,” Sirius mumbles. “Before anyone else walks in.”

 James looks down at himself as if he hadn’t even noticed that he is still kneeling. He hastily gets up and closes the ring box with a snap.

 “My mother thinks we’re getting married,” he says. Sirius nods. Right on cue, James runs a hand through his hair.

 “Bloody hell,” he says. Sirius nods again.

 “We should probably tell her that it’s not the case,” Sirius suggests mildly.

 James’ head snaps up and he stares at Sirius as if he’s grown another head. Sirius absolutely does not know what he could have done to deserve it.

 “We can’t,” James says, strangely hesitant. Sirius doesn’t know what there is to hesitate about in this situation. He’d think James would be eager to clarify the situation with his mother. “I mean, we shouldn’t.”

 “What.” Sirius must have misheard. James did not just say that those words. Those words could not have possibly come out of James’ mouth. This day has taken a turn for the surreal.

 “We can’t tell her.” And now he looks mildly apologetic, as if he’s going to do something Sirius will definitely not like. Sirius really hates that look. It always precedes James doing something he doesn’t like.

 “What do you mean we can’t tell her?”

 “Well…” He definitely looks uncomfortable now, running a hand through his hair obsessively. Sirius’ heart just about skips a beat. This is definitely the last thing he imagined was going to happen when he and James suggested they visit his parents for Sunday lunch. He’s not even sure it makes the list.

 “…You know how my mum’s been making some noise about settling down…”

 Sirius nods. He does not like where this conversation is going at all. He isn’t going to admit to the squeaking sound that comes out of his throat on the pain of death.

 “And now that she’s seen me proposing…”

 “James Potter, don’t tell me you actually organized this to get your mother off your back!” He may have sounded a bit mad and hysterical by the end of it, but Sirius hardly cares. James hesitates again and Sirius resists the urge to hex him.

 “What? No, of course not!” James sounds as if he means it, but he also sounds as if he’s holding something back. Sirius decides to take what he can get and not hex him. “I really did just find that ring box lying around on the floor. But you have to admit, it’s not a bad plan…”

 Sirius takes a deep breath. He had been under the impression that James actually generated intelligent ideas to get what he wanted. Obviously, he was wrong.

 “James,” he says, fighting to keep his voice calm and patient. “You know I’ll do anything for you, but I am most definitely, without a doubt, not marrying you to keep your mother off your back.”

 “We don’t have to get married,” James tells him hurriedly. “We could just…y’know…tell her we’re engaged. There doesn’t have to be an actual marriage. We could say we’re…putting it off. But we do have to…y’know…act more… coupley.”

 Sirius resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose because that sounds like something Mooney would do and he most definitely does not want to seem like Mooney. He’s beginning to understand why Mooney does it, though.

 “Coupley,” Sirius echoes.

 “Just so my mother doesn’t get suspicious,” James says hastily. “And we’ll probably have to do it a lot because you know how gossip travels.”

 “James…”

 “Just for a while,” James says. “A few months, at most.”

 “The worst part is that it actually sounds like a good idea,” Sirius says finally. It doesn’t actually; it sounds like the worst idea anyone could have ever conceived, but James’ bright smile is almost worth it. In any case, Sirius has stopped trying to tell himself he doesn’t like it. “From a purely objective perspective, of course.”

 “This is going to be awesome, Padfoot,” James says, throwing a hand around his shoulder.

 “I didn’t say I agreed,” Sirius tells him. James turns that blinding grin towards him and Sirius feels his willpower slowly crumble. There will come a day when he will learn how to say no to this man’s crazy plans, but today evidently is not that day.

 “Sure you don’t, Padfoot.”

 Sirius suppresses another groan. He just knows this will end badly for him.

 

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

For a day, one glorious, amazing day, Sirius almost believes that his not-engagement with James will have little to no effect on his life. Of course, reality strikes back and proves him wrong.

 In this case, reality strikes back in the form of two fellow Marauders Flooing over to their house while he and James are watching telly together on the couch.

 For the record, Sirius knew that it wouldn’t be good the moment he heard the fireplace. He’s pessimistic like that.

 “James, why does your mother seem to be under the impression that you and Sirius are getting married?” That was Remus. Sounding bewildered. Sirius stuffs his face into a throw pillow to muffle a groan. And he’d been having such a nice day, too, believing that he could actually get through this ordeal unscathed.

 “Well… The thing is…”

 “What?” asks Remus. He sounds like he’s crossing his arms, with that little crease between his eyebrows when he’s genuinely confused. There’s not many things that can claim to genuinely confuse Remus Lupin, so there is that. Though, given the circumstances, Sirius doesn’t think that’s something he should celebrate.

 “I can’t believe that you didn’t tell us! I thought we were mates.” Bloody hell, was that Peter? Were they all coming together to make Sirius suffer?

 “Can I tell them?” Sirius asks from the pillow.

 “…Well…”

 Sirius ignores James in favor of getting up from the couch to face Remus and Peter properly.

 “We’re not getting married.”

 “But your mother said…”

 “Not yet, anyway,” James says loudly. He’s giving Sirius a look. Sirius presses his face into the pillow again to muffle another groan. He is considering, without much conviction, but considering nonetheless, punching James.

 “But—Why—How?” 

“I asked him yesterday,” James tells them.

 “You’re not even together.” Remus sounds genuinely confused. Granted, he does bring up an excellent point. Quite an excellent point, actually. A point that Sirius has definitely not mulled over in his bed while he lay awake at three in the morning. Of course not.

 “Well, you know how everyone’s been saying that we act like an old married couple? That’s because, y’know…” The worst part is that James sounds entirely too sincere about it, like he actually means it. Clearly, he has thought about this a lot. Like Sirius had. He doesn’t know what to think about that.

 “Bloody hell,” Remus says and Sirius agrees with that statement completely, for completely different reasons. Peter lets out an indignant whine.

 “Sirius.” James nudges him. The tone of his voice suggests that he wants Sirius to support him. Sirius has no idea where he got the idea that Sirius will. “Care to add anything?”

 James is his best mate, Sirius tells himself. That means that they are together through thick, thin, and in some cases, completely ridiculous and idiotic. He obediently gets up and once again faces Remus and Peter. The two of them look incredibly confused and more than a little betrayed.

 “What James said,” he says, deadpan, which is the best he can do. “We are getting married. He asked me.”

 “When did this start?” Peter demands.

 Sirius freezes. James wraps a hand around his arm and grips it convulsively.

 “…Right after seventh year,” Sirius lies. “When we got a flat of our own. It just… happened, I suppose.” James is nodding along like a madman. Sirius’ arm is beginning to hurt from James’ grip.

 Remus and Peter stare at the two of them for a long time, completely nonplussed. Sirius can sympathize.

 “I want to see the ring,” Peter finally says.

 “Er… Ring?”

 “The ring James! The engagement ring you gave him, of course!”

 “Er…” Does this mean Sirius has to wear the ring? He’s not completely against the idea, but he didn’t realize he had to put so much effort into pretending he was engaged. Until this morning, he hadn’t even realized anyone would care.

 “It’s in our room,” Sirius says. “You know us, we’re not really into that sappy—er…romantic thing.”

 “Mrs. Potter says James got down on one knee,” Peter says, which is true. Mrs. Potter did see James hold open a ring box in front of Sirius while propped up on one knee. Sirius doesn’t know what that has to do with anything, though.

 “Sounds pretty romantic to me,” Remus deadpans. And yeah, looking at it from one perspective, or two, or maybe—alright, every perspective, it does look pretty romantic. A fact that Sirius had been very pointedly ignoring, actually.

 “Don’t know what got into me,” James mumbles. “It was a spur of the moment thing.”

 “Yeah,” Sirius says. “I was pretty surprised. And you know this prat can’t keep a secret from me.” He punches James for added effect. And maybe because he really wants to punch James. James takes it with surprising grace.

 “Yeah,” James says.

 “Well, congratulations, I suppose,” Remus says. “I can’t say that it’s unexpected.”

 “Yeah—Wait, what?”

 “Well, like you said, you always act like you’re a married couple,” Remus says.

 “We had a bet on whether or not you were actually together and just never bothered to tell us,” Peter tells them. “Lily won.”

 “You have—Why am I even surprised?” James is blinking too much, his hand clenched around Sirius’ arm, which has lost any sort of sensation. His voice is going all squeaky and indignant. It’s his _I’m keeping a secret and you are getting dangerously close to discovering that secret and this is not good_ voice. If he keeps going on like this, either Remus or Peter will end up figuring out the lie. The man is terrible at poker.

 “The two of you are terrible friends,” Sirius tells them. “Absolutely rubbish.”

 “You’re the ones who never told us you were together,” Peter says. “And I’m still peeved about that, by the way, but congratulations, I suppose.”

 “Thank you,” Sirius says. He has a feeling that he’ll be saying that a lot in the next months. He and James should have really thought about this sort of thing before diving into this whole engagement fiasco.

 “Well, we really must be going,” Remus says. “Someone has to tell Lily to collect her winnings.”

 “Bye then,” James and Sirius say together. Remus and Peter head towards the front door. They congratulate James and Sirius once more before apparating to Lily’s, presumably spreading the news of their engagement to the entire Wizarding World. As if James’ mother isn’t doing enough of that as it is.

 When he’s sure they’re gone, he turns to James with a furious glare.

 “You have a lot of explaining to do,” he says. James sighs and runs a nervous hand through his hair. He isn’t meeting Sirius’ eyes.

 “You know Remus can’t keep a secret,” he says to the couch.

 Sirius buries his face in his hands. This has “terrible idea” written all over it which, coming from him, means that it is the worst idea that anyone could possibly come up with.

 “We are digging a deeper and deeper hole for ourselves, Prongs,” he says. Sirius really, really hates it when he’s being the sensible one. “Why can’t we just tell your mother—”

 “You know we can’t!”

 “You’re being ridiculous James,” he says. “She won’t care if you’re not engaged, for Merlin’s sake.”

 “Just a few more months,” James says desperately. More desperate than anything Mrs. Potter thinks should entail, in Sirius’ opinion. “You know how she gets. She’s worried I’ll die sad and alone.”

 Sirius snorts. As if he’d ever leave James alone for a single second of his life.

 “I know,” James says, as if he knows this too and is frustrated with the world for not being able to grasp the concept, or maybe frustrated at Sirius for refusing to agree with him. “But she really wants me to settle down and knowing I’m engaged makes her happy.”

 Sirius groans. Typical of James to pull the ‘making his mum happy’ card.

 “You’re lucky I love your mother so much,” he says.

 “I know, Padfoot,” James says, sounding like he means it. “I’m the luckiest bastard in all of Britain that you love my mother so much.”

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

“Oh, you’ve got to be bloody kidding me.”

 The red envelope is unmistakably a Howler. Now, there may be a considerable amount of people who would want to send him a howler but he’s pretty sure he knows who this one is from (the fact it was delivered by the Black family owl is a huge clue). It’s already smoking around the edges by the time Sirius can even begin to wonder where he put his wand to get rid of the blasted thing. By the time he’s figured out where it is, Walburga Black’s voice is already filling their kitchen.

 “SIRIUS ORION BLACK, MUST YOU BRING MORE SHAME TO THE BLACK NAME? WAS IT NOT ENOUGH THAT YOU ARE CONSORTING WITH A FILTHY, NO-AMBITION, BLOOD TRAITOR POTTER, YOU ALSO AGREED TO AN ENGAGEMENT WITH ONE? WITHOUT OUR PERMISSION? I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED AT YOUR—”

 “Oh sod off,” Sirius grumbles, walking out the kitchen. He finds James in the living room, eyebrows raised.

 “My mother sent me a Howler,” he says, flopping down next to him. James puts an arm around him and pulls him closer. The only good thing Sirius gets from his family contacting him: he has an excuse to be incredibly close to James without it being weird.

 “I noticed,” James says. Sirius snuggles deeper into James, taking in his scent.

 “She still thinks I’m going to do what she says.”

 “Don’t know where she gets the idea,” James says. “You haven’t done what she says since you were eleven.”

 Sirius snorts. His mother is persistent, he’ll give her that. He just wishes that persistence wasn’t directed at him.

 “You’re going to owe me so much when this is all over,” he tells James. James hums in agreement.

 “Hey, Padfoot?”

 “Yeah?” Sirius says, leaning into James. The man has always been extraordinarily warm. It’s an amazing way to distract himself when his family does something particularly loathsome. Like, say, sending him a Howler because of an engagement that isn’t even real

 “Do you want to send her a Howler back?” James says. “Together? We can tell her how happily engaged we are.”

 Sirius feels the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. He can already picture her face. And his father’s. And Kreacher’s.

 “Finally,” he grins. He looks up at James. “I knew you still had some good ideas in you.”

 

James grins back. He always did know how to make Sirius feel better.

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

Because Sirius has been a completely unlucky bastard ever since the not-proposal, a month later, he meets the worst possible person in Diagon Alley.

 “Sirius!”

 Sirius whirls around to see Regulus jogging to catch up with him. He considers running away, but in the end, he knows it will just end in him getting hexed to make sure he stays; the real consequence—or benefit. Depends on how you look at it—of growing up in a household that encourages hexing each other at a young age. He wonders what sort of heavenly power he had offended to be put in this situation as Regulus catches up with him.

 “I heard you’re getting married,” Regulus says, looking directly at the engagement ring on Sirius’ finger. No “Hello,” no “How are you?” no “How have you been getting on since you ran away from the hellhole that we call home?” Always down to business, Regulus is.

 “You heard correctly,” Sirius says.

 “To Potter?” At this, Regulus sounds disbelieving, which, if Sirius is completely honest, is actually a refreshing change to people telling him and James that it was completely expected. Of course, he can’t let Regulus know that. It would be breaking some sort of code in their brotherhood, or something.

 “Don’t you start,” he says sharply. “Mother already sent me a Howler. Twice.”

 “You sent her three Howlers back,” Regulus points out, which, yeah, he did, but that’s just completely beside the point.

 “Of course I bloody sent her three Howlers back. Don’t tell me you actually expected differently.”

 “Why didn’t you tell me?” Regulus demands, straight to the point, like ever.

 “Wha—Why would I tell you?” Sirius isn’t even angry. He is genuinely bewildered why Regulus would expect to be told of this information. It’s not like they’re the sort of brothers who tell each other things. Their relationship is much more complicated than _that._

 “I’m your brother!”

 “Regulus,” he says patiently. “We haven’t spoken properly in years.”

 Regulus blinks as if he’s just discovered this completely relevant information. It’s a surreal moment; explaining to your estranged brother why you did not tell him about your engagement that isn’t even a real engagement. Sirius wonders what he had done in his life to bring him to this point.

 “Oh,” Regulus says.

 “I could tell you about it now, if you want,” Sirius says tentatively. He doesn’t know why he offers it. It’s not as if he wants anything to do with Regulus, or anything. And that’s definitely not hope fluttering in his chest. Of course not.

 Regulus hesitates, glancing around the street. Sirius follows his gaze to see people already whispering and staring at the pair of them oddly. He feels his annoyance grow.

 “You know what, never mind,” he snaps. “Wouldn’t want you to be seen with a blood traitor, would we?”

 He turns on his heel when a hand catches his arm. He turns to see Regulus with a painfully earnest expression.

 “Tell me about it,” Regulus says.

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

“Regulus wants to be best man,” Sirius announces when he gets home.

 James looks up from The Daily Prophet to give him a confused look. There is a long time where the two of them just stare at each other, no doubt mutually contemplating the hole they’ve dug for themselves.

 “What,” James finally says.

 “Regulus wants to be best man to the wedding,” Sirius says. He heads over to the couch and James dutifully scoots over to make room for him. “I met him on Diagon Alley. He wanted to ask about the wedding, and then the next thing I knew, he was asking to be the best man.”

 “Asking” is too light a word, in Sirius’ opinion. “Insisting” is more like it, or “demanding.” “Ordering” seems rather appropriate as well. One of those words, anyway. But then, Regulus is a Black, so Sirius supposes he can forgive him for that.

 “Huh,” James says.

 “Huh,” Sirius agrees.

 “At least you’re talking,” James offers. Sirius snorts and James places a placating hand on his shoulder. “Granted, I don’t think this is a conversation you imagined ever having.”

 “Not really, no.”

 “We could end it, if you want,” James says hesitantly. “I mean, the amount of people asking about it is getting completely ridiculous… I’m sure my mum would understand.”

 Sirius thinks about it. Thinks about it a lot. For some reason, he’s completely averse to the idea of ending their not-engagement. The mere thought is giving him a strange, heavy feeling in his chest. He doesn’t really want to think about it too much, to be honest.

 “Let’s keep it going for a bit longer,” he says, then frowns. “Unless of course, you want to…”

 “No,” James says quickly, with too much force. “I just thought, maybe, you’re getting tired of it.”

 “Honestly James.” Sirius turns to look at James. “I think I’m starting to have fun with it.”

 “Really?”

 “Really.”

 “Well then, can’t let you miss out on your fun, can we?” James says. He sounds absolutely delighted.

  

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

Sirius opens his bedroom door to find James, standing in the hallway, holding a very large bouquet of flowers.

 “You better have a good explanation for this,” Sirius says.

 “Mum wants me to take you on a date,” James announces.

 James pushes the bouquet towards him. It’s so big that Sirius can barely see the top of James’ head. He takes it automatically and wow, it really is that heavy, which is a feat, given Sirius’ tendency to exaggerate things. The arrangement feels more appropriate for a wedding than… well, a date, Sirius supposes.

 “Does she now?”

 “Yes,” James says, nodding. “She picked us a place. The reservation’s… well, it’s right now, actually.”

 “I should get dressed then,” Sirius mumbles. He passes the flowers back to James and slams the door shut. He firmly tells himself that he is not panicking.

 Sirius emerges a few minutes later to find James still in the exact same position that he left him.

 “Let’s go then,” Sirius says. James hands him back the flowers and offers his arm. Sirius takes both, all the while thinking that this might be the single most awkward date he’s ever had, and they haven’t even left the house. Neither of them are quite meeting each other’s eyes.

 They Apparate to a nicer part of London that Sirius remembers passing by on their way to King’s Cross Station as a child. James leads him to a restaurant with those electrical lamp things that Muggles use to light areas.

 Sirius has to admit, Mrs. Potter really knows how to pick out a good place for a date. The restaurant is… “nice” is too small a word, “extravagant” too big-- something in-between those, then. A Muggle establishment, too, so they don’t have the prying eyes of witches and wizards awed at the unimaginable engagement of a Potter and a Black on them.

 “Nice place,” Sirius says. James is shifting uncomfortably and Sirius has a strange thought that would explain James’ awkward behaviour, and the abruptness of this date. And the flowers. There’s definitely something odd going on with the flowers. No way Mrs. Potter would have let James bring those flowers, if she had anything to say about it. She has better taste than that.

 “Your mother didn’t pick this place out, did she?”

 James hesitates, giving him a sheepish grin.

 “Ahh… No. She did not,” he says.

 “Huh,” Sirius says. The two of them are led by a Muggle into a seat for two. The candle and flowers are perfectly situated to cast a lovely golden light on James’ face. Not that Sirius notices that sort of thing. Of course not. “You do have some taste, Prongs!”

 “Shut up,” James mutters, turning red. It gives Sirius a strange sort of delight to see it. “Of course I have taste.”

 The muggle waiter clears his throat loudly. Sirius turns to him. For some reason, he looks uncomfortable.

 “Your menus…sirs,” the waiter says stiffly, staring at the flowers which is taking up a spot of its own. Thankfully enough, James had had the common sense to reserve a table for three before buying the flowers.

 “Thanks,” James and Sirius say at the same time.

 “So,” Sirius says, turning to James with a grin. “Fancy place.”

 “Shut up,” James says, turning very red.

 “No, it’s really nice,” Sirius says. “Very tasteful and amazing.”

 “You’re teasing,” James says, blushing even more. “Stop it.”

 “No, it is,” Sirius insists. “Couldn’t have picked better myself. You know me so well, Prongs.”

 James gives him a look. It does feel a bit redundant, saying it out loud.

 “So what brought this on?” Sirius asks. “Did you just want to show off your man to the world?”

 Sirius laughs, still teasing, but for some reason it makes James turn even redder, if that was possible. He’s starting to look like an overgrown tomato.

 “Well, y’know, Mum’s getting suspicious,” he says, eyes trained on the table. “She really did want us to go on a date. Thinks that we’d lose the romance otherwise.” He somehow manages to turn redder at the last sentence.

 “Oh,” Sirius says. He’s not smiling anymore. His mood has suddenly taken a turn for the worse, though Merlin knows why. It’s not as if he should be surprised. They are, after all, doing this to get James’ mother off his back. It’s perfectly reasonable for James to do this just because his mother told him to. No reason to get upset over it.

 “Yeah,” James says, still painfully awkward.

 “Are you ready to take your orders, sirs?”

 The two of them jump. Neither had noticed the waiter arrive.

 “No,” James says at the same time Sirius says, “Sure.”

 The waiter’s eyes dart between the two of them. He sighs and says,

 “I’ll come back later then, shall I?”

 “The waiter looks shifty,” James says when he leaves, in a way that’s so clearly meant to change the subject that Sirius can’t help but find it endearing.

 “Looks like he’s hiding something,” Sirius agrees.

 Somehow, the conversation devolves into an elaborate backstory about the waiter involving mermaids, dark wizards, and Lethifolds. The two of them are nothing if not creative.

 The waiter comes back three more times before the two of them actually manage to order, too busy laughing at each other to even glance at the menu.

 If anyone asked, Sirius would blame James for the too-loud laugh he keeps letting out that disturbs the other restaurant patrons and seems to irk the waiter even more. Thankfully, no one asks.

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

For their first kiss, Sirius lays the blame on Remus.

 Objectively speaking, he knows that no one is really to blame for kiss, that it was bound to happen eventually. Objectively speaking, he knows that if anyone’s to blame for the kiss, it’s him. Still, it’s easier to have someone to blame that isn’t himself. Especially if that someone is Remus.

 Especially if that someone happens to be in the same room with them and curiously asks why they’re sitting so far apart from each other.

 “We’re not sitting apart,” Sirius says. “We are giving each other space.”

 “I haven’t seen you this far apart since you were eleven,” Remus tells them. “And you’re engaged now. Unless you’re fighting—” He narrows his eyes at them. “Are you?”

 Sirius feels a blush creeping up his face. It hadn’t really been a conscious decision, but ever since the engagement, Sirius has found himself not-so-comfortable with being so close to James. It maybe has to do with the fact that he’s been getting Ideas. Ideas that he most definitely does not want to entertain. Or even acknowledge, for that matter. He turns to look at James and sees that Remus is not the only one who has noticed this. He feels a wave of guilt wash over him.

 He doesn’t know where the urge comes from, doesn’t understand why it comes in the first place, but before he knows it, he’s leaning forward and kissing James.

 It feels better than Sirius had imagined, not that he imagines it mind—oh alright, he has, frequently. In the very dark recesses of his mind that he doesn’t admit to anybody, even himself. This kiss beats all of that.

 It’s not a particularly long kiss, by any means, and Sirius would have wanted it to go on longer, but James pulls away. He’s blinking at Sirius, mouth open and closing soundlessly.

 From far away, Sirius hears someone clearing their throat. He forces himself to look away from James.

 “Uhmm…” Judging from the look on Remus’ face, the kiss had gone on much longer than Sirius had thought.

 “It was to stop myself from doing too much of that,” Sirius says, and it isn’t even a lie. Not technically a lie, anyway. “I thought that you wouldn’t be comfortable with it.”

 “Oh,” Remus says. His voice had gone very soft and squeaky.

 “Yeah,” Sirius says.

 They spend the rest of their lunch in silence, not quite meeting each other’s eyes.

 “I should be off then,” Remus says, after twenty solid minutes of staring at his empty plate. He seems eager to leave James and Sirius on their own. “I’m meeting Lily and I really wouldn’t want to be late.”

 “Okay,” James and Sirius say at the same time.

 “Okay,” Remus says. He gets up abruptly and all but flees from the cafe. James waits before he’s safely heard the sound of apparition before rounding on Sirius.

 “What was that?” James sounds like he’s grinning. Or like he’s keeping himself from grinning. Sirius can’t even begin to interpret this reaction.

 “Uhmm… I kissed you.” Sirius’ voice absolutely does not squeak. Of course not. And he’s not blushing. And he’s definitely not avoiding James’ eyes. “I think Remus was getting suspicious and it just… happened.”

 “Oh,” James says, definitely grinning now. “That sounds like a good plan.”

 Sirius is still too busy not meeting James’ eyes that it takes him a moment to process James’ words.

 “You want to do that again?” he asks.

 “Well, if you’re willing,” James says.

 “Do you _want_ to be kissing me?” demands Sirius.

 “If you want…” James says, suddenly awkward. “I mean, to get my mother off my back, of course. You don’t have to, though,” he hastily adds. “It might be going too far. Just that if you want to…”

 “I’m alright with it, if you are,” Sirius says, and the worst part is that he really isn’t lying this time. He really is one hundred percent okay with kissing James again. He doesn’t really know how to interpret that, either.

 “Oh,” James says, and the grin is back. He seems to be trying to tell Sirius something. Or forcing himself to not tell Sirius something. “I’m alright with it.”

 “Then I’m alright with it,” Sirius says.

 “Alright,” James says. The worst part is, it really, really is.

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

It happens again. More times than Sirius cares to think about. It’s not that he’d been thinking about kissing his best mate, of course not, it’s just that—Well, one can’t help thinking about it, can they?

 James’ parents announce the engagement in The Daily Prophet, and suddenly, there are a lot more people congratulating them, and of course, Sirius’ mother has sent two more Howlers. This isn’t anything Sirius didn’t expect. What Sirius didn’t expect is the complete lack of surprise about it.

 People—and not just strangers, but people who know them personally—seem to take their engagement in stride. No, not just that, they seem to have expected it. Like James and Sirius getting engaged is the most normal thing in the world. Never mind that they were never a couple in the first place. Sirius doesn’t really know how to deal with this information.

 The weirder part is how completely baseless everyone’s assertion is. It’s not as if he and James are acting any differently. Sure, there has been the occasional kiss—all for show, of course. Not for like, anything else. Of course not—but other than that, nothing much has changed. They still stand as close to each other as they usually did, talk about the same topics, and go on with their lives as normal. Sirius honestly cannot wrap his head around why people keep telling him how they’ve seen this from the beginning, especially given the fact that there was no beginning.

 Most of the time, Sirius just plasters a smile on his face and pretends to agree that the kisses are the rule and not the exception.

 

 

~0~

 

 

Ever since Regulus learned about Sirius’ engagement with James, he seems to have taken it as a personal challenge to spend as much time with Sirius as humanly possible. Almost as if he’s trying to make up for lost time.

 Which is… nice, if Sirius is completely honest with himself. But Sirius expected never to speak to any of his family members again after giving them the metaphorical middle finger. This sort of extended contact is making him incredibly uncomfortable. He manages to last a mind-numbing three months before finally cracking and asking Regulus about it.

 “I want to spend time with you,” Regulus says as if this is the most obvious thing in the world and Sirius is being stupid for not realizing it. Sirius thinks he’s being obtuse on purpose.

 “What about mother and father?” Sirius asks, frustrated. “Don’t they care about you being here?”

 Regulus blinks. Then looks annoyed.

 “I’m twenty-two, not a child,” he grumbles. “They don’t tell me what to do.”

 And, well, looking at it from that perspective, it does sound rather reasonable. Sirius supposes he’ll never see Regulus as anything other than a child, though he doesn’t say that out loud. He doesn’t think Regulus would appreciate the sentiment.

 That was two weeks ago. Now that Sirius has sorted out that problem, he realizes that he has been ignoring a larger one.

 The problem with Regulus spending far too much time with Sirius, is that he spends far too much time in the flat Sirius shares with James. Usually while James is in said flat. In the beginning, he acts as if James is not there at all, which, granted, Sirius really didn’t expect anything less, but it’s starting to make James incredibly uncomfortable, so it’s probably time for Sirius to step in.

 “Maybe you should try not scaring him so much,” he mutters to Regulus after James had walked out of the house again, mumbling about seeing Remus to get away from “the glares”.

 Regulus just gives him that smile which means that, no, he will absolutely not do what Sirius tells him. Sirius will never be able to express how much he hates that smile.

 “At least try talking to him,” Sirius says. Regulus looks at him, looking like he’s trying to decide whether he wants to be reasonable or not.

 “I’ll think about it,” Regulus says. For some reason, Sirius doesn’t feel the relief he expected. All he feels is a deep sense of foreboding that this is all going to backfire on him.

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

“So you’re marrying my brother?” Because the first words Regulus says to James have to be those. Of course. Sometimes, Sirius really hates his life.

 “Er… Yeah.” James shifts uncomfortably. He seems vaguely terrified of Regulus, and vaguely annoyed. They never really had the best of relationships. “Yeah. We’re getting married.”

 “Hurt him and I will hex you,” Regulus promises. James gulps nervously. Sirius rolls his eyes. He has a feeling that he knows where this conversation is going and does not like it at all. “It will be painful and no one will be able to trace it back to me.”

 “Regulus,” he scolds. The terrifying thing is that Regulus probably means it. He’s not the type to make idle threats.

 “I know more hexes than half the Slytherin house, combined.”

 So does James, probably, but that’s not really what Sirius wants Regulus to talk to James about.

 “What did I tell you about scaring him?” Sirius says.

 “I’m not scaring him. I’m just telling him about myself,” Regulus says, eyeing James with what Sirius has come to think of as the ‘terrifying Black glare.’ James seems to be holding well under it, all things considered. He seems to be looking to Sirius for support.

 “Regulus,” Sirius says, rubbing his forehead. “Please stop threatening my fiancé.”

 James makes an odd, high-pitched, breath; something between a gasp and a laugh.

 “Just saying it like it is,” Regulus says, toying with his wand in a way that Sirius is pretty sure is just for show. The kid really does know how to threaten someone so that they piss their pants. James, though, hardly notices. He seems to have forgotten Regulus is even in the room, too busy grinning a teasing grin at Sirius. It takes a long moment for Sirius to realize why.

 “Sirius will protect me,” James says, pressing a kiss to Sirius’ cheeks. Sirius will deny to his dying day the way his heart skipped a beat.

 “I will,” he says.

 Regulus rolls his eyes.

 “I think I’ll end up hexing you, too,” he tells Sirius. Sirius is surprisingly alright with that.

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

The first they have sex is at the Engagement Party.

 If anyone asks, Sirius will say that it’s Remus and Peter’s fault, and he wouldn’t even be lying. It really is their fault this time.

 He thinks that if he keeps going on like this, he’ll eventually run out of people to blame.

 It’s their fault because the two of them decided that now their best mates are engaged, it’s their sworn duty as best mates and fellow Marauders to throw them a party. Which—Sirius can’t actually argue with that logic. He would have been deeply offended if they hadn’t thrown a party.

 And because they are boys in their mid-twenties, with the support of a doting mother who has more money in her purse than most Gringotts vaults, it is an over-the-top, extravagant affair. Which of course means that there are copious amounts of alcohol. Which, James and Sirius, being the center of the party, consume unhealthy amounts of.

 It happens three months after their first kiss, just when he and James are starting to get back to their normal levels of comfort. So of course, the universe just had to throw them into a situation that would upset that balance. Again.

 He doesn’t really who know who starts what, or when, or even how, only that they end up in James’ bedroom, kissing like there’s no tomorrow. Sirius hears the party in full swing downstairs and absolutely does not care.

 “Wanted to do this for so long,” Sirius mumbles. His breath is hot against James’ skin and this, along with the drunkenness, is doing strange things to Sirius’ mind. He’s not sure his brain filter even exists anymore. He can’t bring himself to care about that, either.

 “Really?” James asks. He sounds more drunk than Sirius. Or maybe Sirius is just projecting his own drunkenness. Whatever which way.

 “So long,” Sirius says. He nibbles at James’ ear and James is more than happy to let him. Their touches are getting less and less innocent by the second. Sirius knows that he really won’t be able to come up with an excuse for this one come morning, but he doesn’t care. He wants James. Now.

 “How long?”

 “So long,” Sirius says. “S’long as I can remember.”

 “Take it then,” James says. “Take it.” His hands have slid into Sirius’ trousers and stroking him with a steady pace. That and James’ growl like voice, are doing strange things to Sirius’ mind. Well, stranger. He sucks on James’ neck. His hands are moving across James’ body, desperate to find some shred of skin because for some reason, the two of them are still fully dressed.

 Somehow, they make it to the bed.

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

Sirius wakes up to sunlight streaming down his face and a familiar arm around his naked body.

 For a moment, he finds nothing strange about this arrangement. He keeps his eyes closed and savors the sun’s warmth and the familiar weight on his torso. Then his sleep-fogged mind remembers what happened the night before and he barely restrains himself from leaping out of the bed.

 He does jerk violently though, waking James up. He sees hazel eyes open to look at him with—well, Sirius would be hard-pressed to describe that look as anything but fond. His brain doesn’t seem to be in the mood for denial today.

 “Good morning, Padfoot,” James murmurs. There’s a sleepy smile on his face. Sirius tries to tell himself that he doesn’t find it absolutely adorable.

 He fails.

 “Good morning,” he says automatically.

 “It really is,” James says and he presses closer to Sirius. Sirius’ brain stutters to a halt. It seems like James is—but no—this isn’t—it’s not.

 Sirius doesn’t even know what he’s trying to deny at this point.

 “Last night was nice, wasn’t it?” James says.

 “Yeah,” Sirius says. There doesn’t seem to be any room in his mind for denial today, no matter how much he forces it. He blames the sleep deprivation. This is really the last place Sirius wants to be in right now.

 “Do you want to…”

 Is James really suggesting a—No, just no. This is not—Sirius does not—He needs higher brain function for this conversation.

 “We should get dressed,” he says loudly. “Your parents might be looking for us.”

 “Really? Because I prefer you looking like—”

 “Clothes,” Sirius announces loudly. “Now.”

 “Right. Get dressed. Sure.” James frowns, looking highly put out. Sirius isn’t even going to try interpreting that. He makes his way towards the door, picking up and putting on his clothes on the way, and practically runs out of the room.

 Somehow, against all laws of reason and logic, James still manages to catch up with him.

 He grabs Sirius’ arm. Sirius won’t turn, he won’t—

 “I think we should—”

 “Sirius, there you are! I’ve just been meaning to talk to you. That is, if you’re not busy.”

 Sirius turns to see another set of messy dark hair, though this one greyer, standing just behind James.

 “Of course not, Mr. Potter,” he says, keeping his voice as calm as he can, which is really not that calm. He turns to James, who is looking at him with a mixture of hesitance, hurt, and a little bit of annoyance.

 “We’ll talk later,” Sirius tells James. James nods, looking dejected, and lets go of Sirius’ arm. Mr. Potter claps Sirius on the shoulder.

 “Come, boy,” he says. “I think we have some things to talk about.”

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

“Listen, son…” Mr. Potter is sitting awkwardly in front of Sirius, his hands fidgeting uncomfortably the same way James’ do when he really wants to run one through his hair.

 “Mr. Potter,” Sirius acknowledges. He has a feeling that he knows where this conversation is going, and no. Just no. Why does everyone want to talk to him about this all of a sudden, anyway? He thought that everyone was perfectly happy completely ignoring it until it went away.

 “Marriage is a very serious matter, Sirius,” Mr. Potter says. “And while I know that you and James are very at ease with each other, I just want to make sure that neither of you are going to do something you’ll regret.”

 “Er…” Will they regret this one day? Probably. But then, the same could be said about most of their Hogwarts shenanigans. That doesn’t mean they would have done anything differently, if they’d had the chance. Sirius was telling the truth when he said he’s beginning to enjoy it.

 Of course, not so much at the moment. Sirius doesn’t really know how he feels about it at the moment. Just that he absolutely does not want to talk to James about it.

 “Marriage isn’t something you enter lightly, after all,” Mr. Potter says. “I just want to make sure that both of you are serious about this.”

 “Of course we are.” The words come out automatically. Sirius can’t really testify to their truth.

 “Good. Good.” Mr. Potter’s hands fidget again. Sirius remembers thinking of the fidgeting as the special Potter trait, the one all Pure-blood families seem to have. He doesn’t think he’s seen anyone fidget the way the Potters fidget when they’re nervous.

 “Euphemia and I are relieved, you know,” Mr. Potter confides. “You and James have always been very close, and if he’s to settle down with anyone, we’re very glad it’s you.”

 Sirius can’t quite meet his eyes. He nearly comes clean right there and then. He’s always hated lying to the Potters in a way he never has with the Blacks. This is the best time to tell him, to finally come clean, but Sirius can’t seem to make himself open his mouth. He remembers James’ dejected face and he really wants to keep the farce going, for some wild reason.

 “Thank you, Mr. Potter,” Sirius says.

 “Fleamont, please. Or Dad, better yet.” Mr. Potter brightens and it looks so much like James that it sort of hurts to look at. “You’re about to be my son, after all. Officially, that is.”

 Sirius smiles. He doesn’t think he can say how much he loves the prospect. He definitely can’t say how improbable it is because he and James aren’t even engaged. And they are definitely not getting married.

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

James catches Sirius on his way out of the living room as if he’d predicted that Sirius would do anything and everything in his power to get out of that conversation. Which, granted, Sirius hadn’t exactly been subtle about up to that point.

 “Sirius,” James says.

 “James,” Sirius says. He is completely willing to dig his heels in for as long as humanly possible to avoid this conversation.

 “We don’t have to talk about it,” James says, sounding pained. Sirius’ brain, which had been caught in a whirlwind of escape strategies a moment earlier, stutters to a stop.

 “What,” he says.

 “We don’t have to talk about it,” James says. “Better yet, let’s just forget it ever happened.”

 “Uh…”

 “We are forgetting it happened,” James declares. The pained look doesn’t leave his face and Sirius has absolutely no idea what to do to get rid of it. James lets go of his arm, turns on his heel, and—there’s no other word for it—runs away.

 Sirius can only stare at him as he disappears up the stairs.

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

“We’re getting married in three months,” James announces one day, completely red in the face. They spent a few days not quite meeting each other’s eyes until both parties kept to the agreement of not talking about it, so eventually they forget it. Or pretend to, anyway. It’s been months since Sirius has even thought about it. (Sirius definitely doesn’t think about it when he’s alone in his bed at night. He doesn’t think about how James’ lips felt on his body, his hands, his hair, his—No. Sirius definitely does not think about it.) That is, until James goes out and says something like that.

 “What,” Sirius says.

 “We’re getting married in three months,” James repeats. “Mum has apparently been planning this.”

 “Oh.”

 “She says we’d never get around to doing it on our own.”

 Sirius opens his mouth. Then closes it again. His mind seems to have forgotten how to use words.

 “She’s probably right,” he finally says. “You can’t really expect—”

 “You know this would be a good time to end it,” James says quietly, effectively shutting Sirius up. “I don’t think we can—”

 “No,” Sirius says, surprising himself.

 “What?”

 “We started this,” Sirius says. “Might as well end it properly.”

 If anyone asked, he’d tell them that he’s perfectly aware of how ridiculous he sounds; that yes, he does know that there is a difference between flooding a corridor with and getting married to your best mate; that he knows that this is really beyond the regular pranks they did in the days of their youth; and that he does know that there is such a thing as going too far for a trick. And he would be telling the truth.

 Or at least, a part of it. Maybe a small part, but a part of the truth nonetheless.

 James is staring at him with a strange look in his eyes. For the first time, Sirius has no idea what he means by it. Well, not the first time, not really. He realizes that he barely knows what James means by anything these days. The thought is not a comforting one.

 “You know this will be permanent, right?” James says. “Or at least semi-permanent. We can’t go back on this if we do it.”

 Sirius shrugs. It is getting harder and harder to seem as nonchalant as he wants to. This is probably, like, the third least nonchalant conversation he’s ever had in his entire life.

 “Well, if I’m going to get married with anyone,” Sirius says. “Might as well be you.”

 He still doesn’t know why he says it. The logical thing to do would be to end the bloody thing and get on with his life. But then, Sirius has never been particularly logical. He’s learned not to question the madness.

 The grin James gives him is absolutely blinding, and somehow manages to comfort him.

 “Oh shut up,” Sirius says feeling himself turn red. “Your head’s inflating again. Lily will shout at you.”

 “You want to marry me?” James asks, sounding absolutely delighted. “For real?”

 “To get your mother off your back.” For some reason, it feels like a lie when Sirius says it.

 “Of course,” James says, his grin widening even more. He looks like that cat Sirius read about once in one of Remus’ odd Muggle books. “To get my mum off my back.”

 For some reason, it feels like a lie when James says it, too.

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

“I take everything back. I don’t want to marry you.”

 “You’re not allowed.”

 “Of course I am. I just said so, didn’t I?”

 “Well, I don’t accept it.”

 “Don’t—This is not how engagements work, Potter.”

 “I’ll have you know that I went through a lot of trouble to get you to say yes. I won’t have you ruining my plans.”

 “Who even thought this was a good idea?” Sirius asks, frustrated. The Potter’s table is overflowing with different types of books on different types of things needed for a wedding that Sirius absolutely cannot bring himself to care about.

 “You did,” James says, amused. “You said we should help Mum with the planning since it’s our wedding, after all.”

 “I don’t remember saying that.” Sirius does, actually, but he won’t admit to it.

 “You did.”

 “You should share part of the blame.”

 James raises an eyebrow.

 “And why is that?” he asks.

 “We’re engaged. What’s mine is yours, and all that. Including bad decisions.”

 “I refuse.”

 “And here I thought we practiced—”

 “Boys!” Mrs. Potter sounds annoyed but also highly amused. “Planning now. Flirting later.”

 Sirius turns red and promptly pretends that he doesn’t. He busies himself with the book of different flower arrangements that all look exactly the same to him. He never really considered how much planning it actually takes to have a wedding. Sirius thinks that he should really consider plans more before jumping into them. He also thinks that he should have thought of that a year ago, when this mess started in the first place.

 “Why do we have to do this, anyway?” James complains. “I don’t see any difference in any of these things.”

 “Price of getting married, I’m afraid,” Mrs. Potter says, not sounding very sympathetic. Her eyes are twinkling mischievously in that uncanny way James’ always do when a prank is going perfectly. “You learn in the planning if you actually want to be with each other.”

“I’m breaking up with you,” Sirius says.

“Shut up,” James says, punching him half-heartedly. Sirius punches him back. James punches him again. It probably would have turned into an all-out brawl if it weren’t for Mrs. Potter.

“Boys,” she says, rather heavily. “What did I say about the flirting?”

Sirius turns red. He looks down again. The flowers still look exactly the same to him.

“It’s more fun than this,” James mutters. Sirius turns redder. Mrs. Potter ignores them and shoves a book featuring different shades of lilac at James.

“Planning first,” she says firmly.

It’s three hours later when Mrs. Potter finally releases them. Sirius will deny melting into the customary kiss that James gives him. Well, he can’t, because Mrs. Potter is there as a witness. He’ll just blame it on the exhaustion.

He decides that from now on, he’ll leave the planning to Mrs. Potter.

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

Sirius is dozing lightly on the couch when he hears the sound of someone Apparating into their flat. He doesn’t pay it any heed, thinking it’s just James, getting home after an unusually late visit to Remus.

 “Padfoot, I am taking you drinking,” says a voice that is definitely not James’. Sirius’ head snaps up to find Peter standing in their doorway, holding an incredibly reluctant Regulus in a vice grip and a steely expression on his face.

 Peter raises his eyebrow at Sirius’ pajamas but says nothing. Regulus doesn’t even bother hiding his snicker, the bastard.

 “What are the two of you doing here?” Sirius says, trying not to turn red. He will not be embarrassed by his friend and brother in his own home, goddammit.

 “Drinking. I’m taking you drinking,” Peter repeats. “For your stag night.”

 “I’m here to help,” Regulus says dully.

 “Why would I need a stag night?”

 Peter looks at him incredulously, which is bloody ridiculous because Sirius has a completely valid reason for asking because the only people who have stag nights are people who are—

 “Oh,” Sirius says.

 “Yes oh,” Peter says, rolling his eyes. “Now get dressed. Your wedding is tomorrow and it is my job to get you wasted.”

 “Shouldn’t we take James with us?” Sirius protests weakly. He is too tired for this. “He’s half the reason for it, after all. And Remus?”

 “Remus is taking James with the girls,” Peter says dismissively. “It’s bad luck for a couple to meet the night before the wedding.”

 “I’m here to hex you if you don’t agree,” Regulus adds. Sirius glares at him.

 “Pettigrew’s better at blackmail than you are, big brother, so best get dressed.”

 Sirius sighs. Well, it’s not as if they’ve given him a choice.

 “I want you to know that I object to the lack of announcement,” he says. He gets up nonetheless, and heads towards his bedroom for clothes that are not pajamas with little Quaffles on them. “I could have been doing something important.”

 “You were sleeping on the couch, Sirius.”

 “Like I said,” Sirius grumbles. “Important.”

 He sees Peter roll his eyes just as he emerges from the bedroom.

 “Let’s go,” Peter says, with a tone that’s more appropriate for someone attending a funeral than going out drinking with his friend. Regulus’ face almost matches Peter’s tone. “Drinking.”

 “Drinking,” Sirius says.

 “Drinking,” Regulus says gravely.

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

“What if,” Sirius asks after his seventh beer. He doesn’t really know what makes him ask. “Hypothetically speaking, it’s not actually a real engagement?”

 Sirius’ mouth snaps shut. He had not meant to say those words out loud. At all. Peter’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. Regulus gives him a disappointed but resigned look, like he completely expected Sirius to say something like this. Sirius decides that he really hates them both.

 “You’re going to have to say that again,” Peter says. “I don’t think I heard that correctly.”

 “We aren’t really engaged,” Sirius says. Peter blinks. The three of them may be too drunk to have this conversation, or maybe not drunk enough. Peter blinks again and the resignation in Regulus’ eyes grows. Not drunk enough, Sirius decides. He orders another round of shots. Peter doesn’t say anything until he’s downed three of them.

 “Padfoot, you’re doing that thing again where you’re saying things that don’t make sense,” he says, sounding incredibly drunk.

 “We’re not really engaged,” Sirius says. For some reason, the more he says it, the less true it feels. He doesn’t get the lightness in his chest that people always talk about when they tell the truth. He doesn’t know what all of it means. “We just pretended we were so James’ mother would stop pestering him.”

 “I can’t say I didn’t expect this,” Regulus says. “You’ve never been the most perceptive person, after all.”

 “You’re really not helping,” Sirius says. He looks down and wonders if he can manage to convince the ground to swallow him whole if he wishes hard enough.

 “That’s really not what I meant,” Regulus says, and he even sounds sorry about it. Sirius would tease him about it if he’s not still trying to convince the ground to swallow him.

 Peter is blinking far too much. Sirius didn’t know it was possible to blink that much. He does not take this as a good sign. He has never wanted a time-turner more so that he can go back and hit his past-self over the head and tackle him to the ground to shut him the hell up.

 “Why would you do that?” Peter asks.

 “It seemed like a good idea?” Sirius offers. He knows he has a better reason than that but it is refusing to come to mind at the moment.

 Peter raises an eyebrow, looking uncannily like Remus. Well, Sirius has to admit, he does have a point.

 “I was too confused to say no?”

 “For five whole months? Really Sirius?”

 Sirius sighs. Normally, he would have liked making this conversation as difficult as possible. Today, it’s just exhausting.

 “You’re not really going to make me say it out loud, are you?” he says. Peter’s eyebrow climbs even more. A distant part of Sirius wonders when he learned that look. “I don’t know, alright? I just did.”

 “That’s the stupidest reason I’ve ever heard for getting married,” Regulus announces. He’d always been a particularly blunt drunk. Then again, he’s also particularly blunt while sober, too. Maybe Regulus is just particularly blunt.

 “I don’t know,” Sirius says with forced lightness. He doesn’t know how well it carries past all the alcohol he’s consumed. “I think I’m beginning to enjoy it.”

 “And you’re really going through with it?” Peter asks.

 “Uhmm…”

 Suddenly, Peter’s gaze goes confused again.

 “Wait, in the party, you and James said you…”

 “Slept together,” Sirius says, clearing his throat. This is also not a conversation he wants to have.

 “Was it a spell? Because you and James really looked like you…”

 Sirius clears his throat again.

 “Ah, no,” he says. “That was not a spell. That was… real.”

 Peter’s eyes widen.

 “You just said that it’s not a real engagement!”

 “It’s not!”

 “But you really are together?” Peter asks.

 “What? No, of course not.” Sirius has no idea where Peter might have gotten that idea.

 “Sirius, you are really not making sense.”

 “I have to say I agree with Pettigrew on this one,” Regulus says.

 Sirius buries his face in his hands. It’s not like he doesn’t know how little sense this whole thing makes. That’s why he’s telling them. for Merlin’s sake!

 “Padfoot, you slept together,” Peter continues, as if Sirius is being particularly dim. “And you’re planning an honest-to-god wedding that is going to happen tomorrow.”

 “Well yeah, but that’s not—We’re not actually—”

 “Padfoot, you know how everyone is saying the two of you are like a couple?” Peter says.

 “Yeah,” Sirius says uncertainly. He raises his head slightly to give Peter a questioning look.

 “And you kiss each other all the time.”

 “Well yeah, but…”

 “Shut up. Don’t interrupt him,” Regulus says. Sirius’ mouth snaps shut.

 “And you go on dates,” Peter continues. He seems to be trying to tell Sirius something.

 Sirius nods.

 “And you’ve slept together how many times?”

 “Just the once—”

 “Sirius,” Regulus snaps, in a tone that says he thinks Sirius is being incredibly dim. “You do know that there’s only so far you can act like a couple before you actually become a couple, right?”

 Sirius’ mouth opens and closes out of its own accord. He can’t really attest to any control over his body at the moment. Regulus’ argument seems logically sound, but there must be some flaw in it, something, because he and James—

 He can’t possibly have been in a relationship with his best friend without noticing. That’s just ridiculous.

 “That’s not—James and I really aren’t like that.”

 “No? You’re just getting married tomorrow.” Sirius frowns. He thinks Peter has been spending far too much time with Remus and Regulus, if he’s talking like that.

 “It’s not like that,” Sirius insists.

 “If you say so,” Peter says heavily. “The only question is: Do you and James want to marry each other?”

 Sirius’ mind stutters to a halt. He can’t seem to come up with an answer that isn’t either a lie, or just bloody ridiculous, which is probably as telling as any answer.

 “Oh,” he says.

 “I think you should talk to James,” Peter says. He glances at his watch. “Right now.”

 “But he’s having his own stag night,” Sirius says. “I wouldn’t want to—”

 “He’s probably home by now,” Peter says, rolling his eyes. He downs a shot of firewhiskey. “You know how Remus hates drinking.”

 Objectively speaking, Sirius is aware of this fact. He doesn’t know why it makes his heart thud in his chest, though.

 “Go,” Regulus says.

 “Okay,” Sirius says, standing up. He suddenly doesn’t know what to say. “Thanks, I guess?”

 Sirius sees Peter roll his eyes and gesture to the barman for another round as Regulus finishes the rest of the shots.

 “Anytime, Padfoot,” Peter says, sounding much too drunk for another round, in Sirius’ opinion.

 “Don’t stay out too long,” Sirius says. “And don’t get too—”

 "Go, Sirius,” Regulus orders.

 “Okay.”

 

 

 

~0~

 

 

 

When Sirius gets back to their flat, mind still reeling, James is already there, absently watching telly. Sirius doesn’t really know how to start so he settles for blurting out,

 “Peter and Regulus say we’re a real couple.”

 James’ head snaps up. He doesn’t seem too drunk, barely tipsy actually. If there’s anything the Marauders have ever failed at, it’s getting each other incredibly drunk. James has that deer-in-headlights expression that just about tells Sirius everything he needs to know. He does not know how to process this information.

 “Huh,” Sirius says. He sinks down onto the couch. James scoots over to make room for him, looking vaguely terrified and exultant. It’s a strange expression. For some reason, even after his conversation with Peter and Regulus, Sirius still hadn’t really expected this. This is one of the last things he could have expected, to be honest. “Couple, huh?”

 “We are getting married tomorrow,” James offers weakly. Sirius’ head snaps to him.

 “Did you know about this?” he asks. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised. It’s reasonable that at least one of them would have known they were in a relationship. No, that’s not right. It’s just completely ridiculous that Sirius didn’t.

 “Uh? Maybe? If you did, that is. And I don’t know how you could have possibly not, I mean—”

 Sirius cuts off James’ ramblings with a kiss. James’ posture eases and he eagerly kisses Sirius back, as if he can’t help himself. It’s their first kiss where they aren’t pretending it’s for anyone but themselves, or at least Sirius isn’t. He really can’t speak for James. It feels like it should be their first.

 “I don’t know how I didn’t realize it,” Sirius says when they finally pull apart. His voice may or may not have sounded breathless. He can’t attest to its steadiness, either. “I suppose I’ve been a bit thick, yeah?”

 “A bit,” James says.

 Sirius kisses him again. And again. And again. And James kisses him back all times. His imagination has nothing on how good it feels.

 “I love you,” he murmurs. The surprising thing is his complete lack of surprise at blurting the words out. They just ring true to his ears, which is something that he probably should have realized earlier on. Huh.

 James freezes in his arms but the fondness in his eyes doesn’t disappear. Sirius takes what he can get and kisses him again. He suddenly wants to kiss him over and over again, just to get that expression on his face. He really doesn’t know how he hasn’t noticed before.

 “I love you,” he says, louder this time, firmer. It feels like the most honest thing he’s said in his life. “I love you and it’s perfectly all right if you don’t—”

 “No,” James says. “I—I do. I love you. I didn’t know if you did too and—”

 “I love you too,” Sirius says, kissing James again. James loves him. He loves him. A part of Sirius wants to shout it to the rooftops and just tell the whole world. And Sirius, without a doubt, loves James too. He doesn’t know how he hasn’t realized. Looking back, that really would be a good explanation for the strange feeling he’s had in his chest for the longest time. It’s better than any explanation he’s told himself, at any rate. “After all, I am marrying you tomorrow.”

 “That’s good,” James says. “I don’t think I’d appreciate being stood up at my own wedding.”

 “I don’t think I’d appreciate being in a loveless marriage.”

 “Good thing none of those things are happening, right?”

 And suddenly the two of them are laughing at the sheer hilarity of the situation. If anything, this’ll make a good story one day. Another thought occurs to Sirius, making him laugh harder. It may be tinged with a little hysteria.

 “James,” he says when he’s caught his breath. “Was it ever really about getting your mother off your back?”

 “Ah,” James says, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, not really.”

 “And the ring?” Sirius asks, amused. “Did you really just, find it?”

 “Well, no. I may have—Not really, no. My mum might have given me the idea. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

 The fact that James organized a ridiculously elaborate scheme just to tell Sirius he likes him is very telling. The fact that Sirius finds it incredibly endearing is probably even more so.

 “You’re ridiculous, you know that right?”

 “I’m not the one who didn’t realize I was in a relationship.”

 James is grinning at him, a playful expression on his face, and Sirius can’t do anything but grin back. He kisses James again, just because he can, and apparently he could have for a while now. If he had known this would be the end result, Sirius would have gone out drinking with Peter and Regulus months ago. He doubts any other couple could ever claim to have their first not-not-kisses on the night before their wedding.

 But then, he and James have always thrived on standing out. Sirius is perfectly alright with that.

 

 

\--fini--

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come shout at me at my [tumblr](http://pdfcct.tumblr.com/)!


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